


If We Live to See the Other Side of This

by taralkariel



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Comics/Movie Crossover, F/M, Happy Ending, One Shot, POV Alternating, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 08:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19989235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taralkariel/pseuds/taralkariel
Summary: For his last mission, Steve Rogers brings Natasha Romanoff back from Vormir.  She returns to join the New Avengers, unsure if this is really what she wants to do with her life now that the red is out of her ledger.  She grows closer with her newest teammate and starts to think that maybe she does know what she wants.Bucky Barnes has lost his best friend and one of his few tethers to the modern world.  He didn't want to join Steve in the past, but he is unsure of his place with the New Avengers.  He finds that Natasha shares his outlook and considers what the future could potentially hold.





	If We Live to See the Other Side of This

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the BuckyNat Mini Bang 2019! Beautiful art by wonderful Sarma on tumblr!

Prologue

_They hadn’t decided on what order Steve would return the Stones. Bruce, or the Hulk, or whatever he was calling himself, let Steve make his own choice. No one else suspected exactly what that choice would be. Except for Bucky, of course. Bucky had known him since he was an asthmatic child – he wouldn’t fall for the Captain America façade._

_Steve hadn’t had a plan, not exactly. But he was a man out of time. That was what they had been calling him for years. And, maybe, after seeing his fellow Avengers finally find some real life, he figured he should give it a try. If he couldn’t move on… well, it looked like there might be another option. But there was something he needed to do first._

_So he took all the Stones to Vormir. He didn’t think there was much danger of something happening to them before he could complete his mission. His last mission. His first mission had been to rescue Bucky from HYDRA. It was quite a shock to find the leader of HYDRA, way out here._

_The Red Skull hadn’t died, then. Steve didn’t much care how his former enemy had received this fate. It didn’t matter. Only one thing did._

_“I’ve come to trade. A soul for a soul.”_

_It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t supposed to work this way. But Steve could do this all day. And, finally, he got her back. Nat._

_“Steve?” she wanted to know, confused by his presence._

_He smiled and felt the tears warm his face as he embraced her. “You’re back,” he said._

_“Did we do it?”_

_“Yes. Everyone’s back. Thanos – we destroyed him and his armies. Well, Tony did. Tony’s… he’s…”_

_“Gone?” she supplied gently._

_He nodded. “The universe was saved. Thanks to you.”_

_“Why are you here?”_

_She looked weary. It had been hard on her, the last five years. Knowing they’d lost. Seeing her family break apart and unable to do anything about it. She’d been so determined to get them back together, to fix everything, that she hadn’t cared if she was no longer part of it. She was always so selfless, always reassuring everyone else. When was the last time anyone had reassured her? Had taken care of her?_

_“Nat, Tony’s gone. I’m… I’m not going back. But you need to. Someone needs to lead the team,” he told her gravely._

_She was surprised. “Where are you going?”_

_“I’m done being a man out of time, Nat.”_

_“Steve,” she said, warningly._

_“It’s okay. I was thinking… I was thinking I’d leave Sam my shield. What do you think?”_

_“I think that’s the best plan you’ve ever had.”_

_He laughed and she smiled, though her eyes brimmed with tears. He would miss her._

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Bucky hadn’t known Steve’s plan, not exactly, but he could guess. He could read between the lines into the cryptic questions Steve asked him, about if he missed their old lives. He told his friend the truth – it was hard to miss what you barely remembered. There was nothing for him, back there. He’d died. His sisters and mother had outlived him but he was not the man they knew anymore. Going back… they wouldn’t even recognize the battle-hardened amputee who returned. Not that those circumstances were exactly uncommon after the war, but he wanted no part in adding to it. He knew too much of the interceding history and, anyway, how could he live with the guilt? Going back to the forties wouldn’t prevent the deaths he’d brought about in the years since. He would stay, maybe make up for what he’d done by joining the Avengers.

HYDRA was out of his head – the genius Princess Shuri had seen to that. He could live in this era and maybe find some peace. If Steve did not feel the same way, he would be happy for his friend. Even if it was a shock to see him as an old man. But they were both old men, weren’t they? Luckily, Wilson was there to keep him from getting too melancholy. And to wield the shield, picking up the mantel. It would be good for him, and he would be good for it.

Steve told them that he’d arranged for a new Avengers facility and gave them the address. Without Stark, it was unclear how things would work. But Steve wanted to leave them one last thing and then he went home. He didn’t say where that was. Lang and Barton had gone to their families, the Hulk back to whatever he did nowadays. Thor went to space with his new friends. So it was only the three of them who made the trip to the new compound – Wilson, Wanda, and himself. Rhodey said he’d be in touch, but Stark’s death weighed heavily on him and he wanted some time before returning.

The new facility was in Maine. Bucky didn’t think he’d ever been to Maine before. The drive was very scenic. He sat in the backseat, behind Wanda because there was more room on that side. Wanda and Sam got along well, chatting away while he looked out the window for most of the drive. He didn’t know if they would start recruiting right away – three was hardly enough for world-saving. Though of course they had friends around the world. Around the universe, he corrected himself with some shock. Yeah, he definitely wouldn’t get along well trying to fit back in during the forties.

The facility was behind a gate that had a security code. Sam guessed what it was on the first try, citing some joke with Steve. Bucky smiled, amused at how almost giddy his friend was. Yes, he’d make an excellent Captain America. A much more sensible one, for starters. If he jumped out of a plane, he at least had wings.

There was a winding dirt road and they were all silent as they made their way down it. Once the compound came into view, it was clear that the facility was not quite like their previous HQ, but would certainly serve the desired purpose. There was only one building, with several floors and a handful of vehicles parked outside.

“What the hell?” he muttered as he noticed that lights were on in the first floor.

Sam glanced back at him, then at Wanda. “Looks like we already have company.”

“You don’t think the others might have beaten us here?” she asked with some concern. Though why someone with her level of power would be concerned about anything at all was a mystery to Bucky.

Shrugging, Sam parked next to one of the motorcycles. “I didn’t tell anyone about this,” he admitted.

“Neither did I,” Wanda asserted, glancing back at Bucky.

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t.”

None of them needed to state that they’d better be on their guard. They just were. Their team might have been much reduced, but they were a team and could communicate nonverbally. Sam took point, followed by Wanda, and Bucky took up the rear. He was glad to have a gun but wished it were the one he’d had in Wakanda.

They moved silently toward the front door of the building. It had a handprint scanner and Sam pulled off a glove to use it. The wait was tense as it scanned before the sound of the door unlocking could be heard. Sam glanced back and both of them nodded to him. He pulled out the shield, his now, and headed inside. Bucky checked the surrounding area while they waited for Sam to give them the all-clear. He signaled and Wanda headed in, followed by Bucky, who frowned slightly at the motorcycle nearest the door. Why wasn’t it lined up with the other vehicles?

The light up ahead only slightly illuminated their location, which was some kind of foyer. There was a staircase on the left and one the right, as well as several hallways down which they could walk. Sam wisely chose to head toward the light. Bucky wasn’t overly worried about what they might find here – maybe Steve had left the light on? – and so wasn’t prepared for the shock when he walked into what turned out to be the kitchen.

They weren’t alone.

“Nat?” Sam asked in disbelief.

It couldn’t be anyone else behind the counter. She turned, her hand tightening on the knife she’d been using to make a sandwich, before smiling disarmingly. “Took you guys long enough.”

“You’re alive,” Wanda said numbly. She didn’t wait for a response but instead strode over and embraced the other woman.

Sam was quick to move forward for his turn. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of her, but he didn’t move any closer. He was uncertain of his reception. The Black Widow had been an integral part of the team when Sam and Wanda had become Avengers, and had worked to train them up for duty. They had been together for years. His own history with her was more sporadic and decidedly less friendly.

After she had hugged the other two, she offered him a smile and he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Her hair was still streaked with blond, so she couldn’t have been gone that long. Had she followed Steve to another time period and stayed there? If so, why was she here now? He wished he’d gotten someone to explain the whole situation more fully.

“We heard you – that you were gone,” Sam said quietly. “How did you get back?”

She smiled again, but it was more distant this time. “Steve can be very persuasive, it turns out. Insisted that returning the Soul Stone should mean I get to return, too.”

“He’s a stubborn guy; most people give in to his demands if only to get him to shut up,” Bucky found himself saying and she laughed. Sam and Wanda did, too.

Sam took a step back and cocked his head. “So we’re it? We’re the Avengers now?”

“Yes, Captain,” Natasha said with a grin.

“Hey, now, you don’t need to be calling me that. I’m a Master Sergeant.”

“I think you’ve been promoted,” Wanda pointed out.

Sam started to protest again and Bucky felt he should clarify something. “Steve didn’t complete basic training. He wasn’t granted any rank. They made him a captain because it sounded catchy.”

“That explains a lot,” Sam muttered and Bucky grinned. It certainly did.

“I think you’d better keep the title, for continuity,” Nat told him and Wanda nodded.

“Twist my arm… Well, Nat, how does all this work?”

She explained their communication devices, which Bucky was delighted to learn featured holograms, and what contacts they had to both warn them of problems and to help in case of emergency. It seemed that she had been here for a few days, setting up after Steve returned her. Why he hadn’t brought her back earlier, for the funeral, was a mystery. If she knew the answer, she didn’t explain it to them.

They toured the facility and were shown their rooms, among other things. Wanda expressed a desire to go to bed and Sam agreed that they should all turn in. Bucky politely wished everyone goodnight but headed to the kitchen instead. He didn’t think he’d be sleeping any time soon.

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Natasha did not go directly to the new Avengers compound that Steve had promised would exist after he dropped her off. He had suggested returning her a little while after she left and she did not resist. Obviously she wouldn’t want to go back to before the mission, and wanted to rethink some things before she went back to the others. Instead, she requested to be left at the Barton’s farm as soon as it was likely Clint would have returned to it.

Little Nathaniel was the first person she saw, playing outside on the lawn. He took her presence very much in stride and it was something of a relief to greet him before anyone else. It was strange to feel nervous after having been here many times before, but she did, even hesitating as she approached the door to knock. She would never forget the look on Clint’s face when he answered, pulling her tightly into an embrace she hadn’t been expecting but immediately accepted.

Laura came to see what was happening and Natasha was happy to be embraced by her as well.

“We thought – ”

“I saw you – ”

They both spoke at once and she smiled. “It’s okay. I’m back.” They didn’t press her further and she was happy to sink into the comfortable domesticity of their lives. There was much to do to get the farm back to running after their respective absences. The children were old enough to help, except for Nathaniel, but another pair of hands was certainly appreciated. Natasha stayed with them for a few days and considered what she wanted. What she really wanted. Dying had a way of rearranging one’s priorities.

In the end, she decided to go join the new Avengers, whoever was left. Clint and Laura had assured her that the red in her ledger was decidedly wiped out and she surprised herself by agreeing. Steve had essentially retired, though he’d used some time travel to do so. Tony was gone. Thor and Bruce had also retired after a fashion, as had Lang and Clint. She’d been in the game a long time and the Bartons offered their home to her for as long as she needed it. The new team lineup could use some help getting off the ground, she figured. She was free to leave at any point, but this was something she knew how to do. And something she enjoyed.

So she settled into the facility and only had to wait a day before the new Avengers arrived. They startled her in the kitchen and she wondered at Steve’s lack of paranoia, not even including a security system that warned of anyone’s arrival to the place. They all three looked much the same as when they had prepared to defend Wakanda from Thanos’ armies all those years ago. For them, hardly any time had passed at all. She wondered if the years were more obvious on her. For the first time in a while, she considered getting a haircut.

Wanda retired first and Sam soon after. Barnes headed back to the kitchen instead and Natasha observed him, assessing whether his programming was gone and what sort of teammate he might be. It was evident that he got along well with Sam, but didn’t everyone?

“Is there something I can do for you?” Barnes asked, not glancing toward where she lingered in the shadows outside the kitchen.

She smiled and stepped into the light out of politeness. “Possibly.”

“Cooking isn’t my forte, if that’s what you’re after.”

He was looking through the stores of food, which made her doubt his assertion. Still, she had eaten a sandwich while giving them the tour, so it didn’t matter. “How are you taking Steve’s decision?”

His expression was bland as he continued his perusal of the packages in front of him. “I wasn’t surprised. He asked me, in his way, if I wanted to join him.”

“And?”

A nearly imperceptible clench of his jaw made it clear that she was on dangerous ground with a man she barely knew. “They would have little use for me in the forties. I’m not who I was then. No point in going back to try to fill someone else’s shoes.”

“Makes sense,” she responded softly.

He stopped to look at her. “You didn’t have to come back to this. Not after what happened.”

“What happened?” she repeated, curious how he would describe the events.

His eyes narrowed. “You died. It’s kind of a free pass to change what you’re doing with your life.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?” she teased.

That was the wrong thing to say because he turned his attention away abruptly. “Hasn’t been my experience, no. But it worked for Steve. Could for you.”

She watched him in silence, considering. He made a decision about what to eat and set about preparing it. All of the food was pre-packaged and required little assembly. They stood and listened to the microwave for a few moments in what might be companionable silence.

“Do you eat a lot?” she asked.

His eyes flickered toward her then back to the whirring machine. She reminded herself that he had been around in the modern age for several years and likely would not be stymied by any of the technology here. Especially after living in Wakanda. So furthering the conversation with questions along those lines would not be fruitful and might be insulting. Why she wished the further the conversation was not really something she wished to consider at the moment. He was the most unknown part of the team, she needed to know more about him before going into the field. That was all.

“Define a lot,” he responded good-naturedly.

“Between Steve, Thor, and Bruce, we found it difficult to keep the pantry stocked. Fortunately, it wasn’t often that all of them were in residence.”

“I won’t eat as much as them,” he promised and she smiled.

“Glad to hear it. I don’t intend to go on a grocery run if I can help it.”

His lips pursed thoughtfully and he pulled his dinner out of the microwave, stirring it in silence. She waited and was rewarded for her patience. “I was buying groceries when I found out I’d been framed for the murder of King T’Chaka. Haven’t been shopping since. Always did like it, though.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not the same as before the war,” he replied with a shrug, digging into his food. “Even this freeze-dried stuff is much better than what I used to have as a kid. Or really anytime until pretty recently.” He glanced at her, checking for her reaction to the topic of his time as the Soldier. She intended to be encouraging on that subject, well aware how talking about experiences made them easier to bear. 

“HYDRA wasn’t big on preparing culinary masterpieces?”

“They had other priorities for me. As long as I was functional, they were happy.”

“And if you weren’t?” she asked, watching his face carefully to see if he was offended by the question. He didn’t seem to be.

“Then they’d find a way to reset me to proper functionality again.”

She didn’t need to ask how they would do so – she knew. “I suppose you’re not too shocked about skipping ahead in time five years. Seems like you’d be used to it.”

A surprised snort interrupted his chewing and he looked up at her sharply. Then he laughed and she found herself smiling a little. “You’re right. I’ve definitely been prepared for this kind of thing. It’s not the first time I’ve woken up several years after I went to sleep. It’s probably too much to hope for it to be the last.”

“Well, there’s some chance of that being the case,” she reassured him. “I’m hoping our missions are much more low-key and closer to home in the future. Or I might have to take Clint up on his offer to stay on the farm.”

He smiled at her and she felt a warm sensation in her stomach. “You think he has room for another set of hands? Well, one hand, at least.”

“I’m sure he would appreciate whatever you can offer. I can send you to him now if you would like,” she told him gently.

He shook his head. “Not yet, Natalia. I have… debts. I need to repay them by saving lives before I can join your friends in retirement.”

That was certainly something she understood and she cocked her head slightly, studying him. They had precious few conversations in the past and it occurred to her that she knew very little about him. Who was Bucky Barnes, really? Besides Captain America’s friend, besides the Winter Soldier. It would be intriguing to find out. Perhaps she would stick around here a bit longer than originally planned.

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Sam Wilson did not sleep late. Apparently, he considered this a virtue and expected his teammates to follow suit. Bucky didn’t know how long he had slept, but it felt like only a moment before Sam was pounding on his door, calling for him to get up. It was enough to startle him out of bed and scramble for a corner, confused and afraid. But then he recognized Sam’s voice and began to calm down. Even if the room was unfamiliar and took him a moment to place. Then he recalled his conversation the night before and his heart began to pound again.

“Come on, Barnes, rise and shine,” Sam called impatiently.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, be right there.”

“Good. You can help me make breakfast.”

Rolling his eyes, he hastened to make himself presentable. Well, as much as was possible. It was kind of T’Challa, perhaps at Shuri’s behest, to let him keep the arm. It made things easier and did not have the same negative memories as his previous one. Even if he still could not remember much from then. Shuri had removed the failsafe codes that HYDRA implanted, but he’d asked her not to try to return the memories. There was no indication that any of her tools would be effective and he saw no benefit in being made aware of more than he already knew about his time as the Soldier. Not much was worth remembering from then.

“Well, don’t you look handsome this morning,” Sam teased. He had clearly been up for a while, likely having gone for a run.

“You say that like it’s not true every morning.”

Sam snorted as he led the way toward the kitchen. “Oh yeah? Does something happen between that and when I see you?”

He pointedly ignored the question. “So, are we going to be making breakfast for them every day or what?”

“Thought it would be a good first day for our new team. Grab that skillet there – can I trust you to scramble some eggs?”

“I was a world-renowned assassin for seventy years, I think I can handle a little emulsification.”

Sam smirked. “You know, your assassin-ship, Steve and Nat hid out at my house when you were hunting them. I made them breakfast.”

“Did they enjoy your cooking?”

“Everyone does, Buck, everyone does,” Sam replied, patting him on the shoulder. The right one, Bucky noticed. Most people avoided his left one even when he was wearing something over it.

“So, this is some kind of tradition? Would it be bad luck if you don’t make breakfast on your first day with the team?”

“I’m not saying I’m superstitious, but yes,” Sam replied. His expression sobered slightly as his progress of assembling breakfast ingredients slowed.

“You okay, man?” Bucky asked as he broke eggs as nonchalantly as possibly.

Sam looked up at him and he paused. “Steve wants me to be Captain America.”

“I’m sure he won’t be offended if you stay the Falcon,” Bucky reassured him. Sam looked doubtful. “But I think you’d be great at it.”

“Thanks, Buck.”

“It’s very serious in here, considering I smell bacon cooking,” Natasha’s voice broke in.

He turned his focus to the frying pan, as if the eggs required his complete attention, rather than looking up at her.

“We were just preparing a little breakfast for you lovely ladies, Miss Natalia,” Sam told her with a bow.

She snorted. “Well, thank you, Samuel, I certainly appreciate not having to make my own breakfast.”

Sam nodded sagely. “I do know that about you, Nat. How are the eggs coming along, Barnes?”

“Nearly finished, Wilson.”

“I’ll set the table, so we can eat like proper ladies and gentlemen,” Natasha stated, and Bucky backed hastily away from the drawer she was reaching for. She glanced up at him with what could not possibly be a slight blush, and opened the drawer he had been in front of. “Thank you, James,” she said softly and he hoped the warmth in his face wasn’t noticeable.

“No problem, Natalia,” he replied tentatively.

If Sam noticed the interaction, he did not comment on it. Wanda soon joined them and then Sam pulled rank as their captain to tell them how to arrange themselves at the place settings Natalia had contributed. Breakfast went by leisurely and with considerably more camaraderie than Bucky could remember having in a very long time. Though he had enjoyed his time in Wakanda, and his hosts had been very welcoming, he had never quite fit in. And before that… Well, there were few pleasant memories after his time with the Howlies.

Sam’s superstitions may have been justified, or sharing a meal was just a good way to begin being a team. They started working together that afternoon and they easily fit into a routine, a pattern of interacting that was both efficient in the field and comforting on base. They did all kinds of work, from giving aid to the victims of a natural disaster to hunting down people who sought to take advantage of the recent upheaval – the Blip, the news had decided to call it. The world had changed quite a bit in the five-year absence of half its citizens, and there were certainly growing pains with the return of those who were lost. 

Natalia deferred to Sam’s leadership easily, seeming relieved to have the burden taken off of her shoulders. Sometimes she would talk about her time leading the remaining Avengers while the rest of the team were dealing with their failure in different ways. He greatly admired her response to the tragedy, their inability to defeat Thanos the first time, and felt not a little resentful that she had been left in that position by those who should have been her team. This new team wouldn’t do that, he was certain. They would take care of her.

More often than not, Bucky found himself paired with Natasha on missions. Usually, their job was to gather intel or otherwise sneak unnoticed into places. Sam, and especially Wanda, would arrive for situations that required a little less finesse. He liked Wanda well enough, though she seemed too otherworldly sometimes, and bantering with Sam was always fun, but he was relieved to be assigned to work with Natalia. They approached situations the same way, and were made of similar stuff.

Not that he didn’t banter with her – she liked to joke and he was delighted every time she started it. They made bets on who could sneak into places the fastest, or without being seen, or on who could find the best intel. When they were separated, she usually suggested some form of competition, like who would be back the soonest or take down their target most effectively. After working alone for such a long time, it was refreshing to have someone to measure his abilities against, especially since hers were so similar and so closely matched. It made the job a pleasure instead of what it had always represented to him.

“Barnes, got a minute?” Sam interrupted him while he was in the kitchen.

“Sure,” he replied, glancing away from the microwave.

Sam was standing in the doorway, still in his Cap suit. That was unexpected. His expression was wary, guarded. “There was problem.”

The blood drained from his face as he tried to remember what this mission had been about, what the risks involved were. “What happened?”

“Nothing major, Buck, calm down,” Sam told him firmly and then waited until Bucky nodded slowly. “Nat’s in the infirmary but she’ll be fine. I wanted to talk to you about her.”

He struggled not to rush to the infirmary to check on her, focusing instead on his friend’s face. If Sam said she was fine, then she was fine. “What is it?”

“She’s been getting reckless. Not disobeying orders or messing up on intel or anything. But she’s been taking risks in the field. Ones that she wouldn’t have before, the kind that she warned Wanda and I against taking when we joined.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, exponentially more concerned than he had been about any missions she went on without him.

“I know you two tend to compete with each other. I’m just wondering if that might be getting out of hand.”

The fork he’d been holding in his left hand bent at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t ever condone her taking action that would hurt herself,” he snapped.

Sam smiled disarmingly. “Of course not. Maybe you should go talk to her.”

“Yes. I will.” Without glancing back, he headed down the hall to the infirmary, angry at Sam’s implications and afraid that they might be true. Had they been reckless? Maybe, maybe more than they would have been otherwise. Was this his fault, then? They hadn’t had any standing competition for this mission, Nat hadn’t said anything before she went. So what would have induced her to make a mistake?

Natalia was in one of the beds, hooked up to an IV and staring out the window with an expression that he couldn’t quite place, but that was distinctly melancholy. Her suit was draped haphazardly over a nearby chair and he stopped abruptly, uncertain of his welcome. She turned toward him and smiled – a real smile – which would have stopped him in his tracks if he hadn’t already paused.

“What happened?”

“Oh, well, I must have gotten distracted. Bullet grazed my arm. Sam insisted I stay overnight in here and I’d hate to have him clucking over me like a mother hen,” she explained, seeming as calm and confident as ever.

He closed the distance between them to take her uninjured hand gently, watching for her reaction. It was an unprecedented gesture and he waited to see if she would protest.

“Are you going to tell me to be more careful next time?” Her tone was slightly teasing but seemed more breathless than usual. Perhaps she was more injured than she let on.

Clearing his throat, he glanced away from her with difficulty. The parameters of the mission did not include anything that might bother her. Just dealing with run of the mill arms dealers. No connection to her past, nothing that should have caused undue stress. He had tried to keep track of these things because he was well aware that she kept track of them for others. She had insisted more than once that certain missions not be given to one of the team because they were a little too close to home, for whatever reason. No one appeared to reciprocate this concern for her, so he had felt it necessary to do so. It was important to him.

“I was hoping you could tell me what upset you,” he replied quietly, meeting her gaze.

“I mean, getting shot was pretty upsetting,” was her flippant response. When he continued to watch her, she relented. “Why would I be upset, James?”

He motioned toward her bandage then ran his free hand through his hair when she pursed her lips. “We both know that the Black Widow has only been hit by those shooting at her on very rare occasion.”

“By you, you mean,” she supplied, smile returning.

Swallowing, he nodded. “Yes. No one you were after today had that kind of training.”

“Maybe he just got lucky.”

“Natalia… Please. You can tell me.” The offer was genuine and he hoped he looked trustworthy as she regarded him. Then she pulled her hand away, stood, and walked over to the window. It took effort to remain where he was as he waited to see if she would answer, or if she wanted him to leave.

“It was stupid. I was just… I’ve never had a problem with heights before. But I was up there and I felt like I… Like I couldn’t move or I would fall,” she whispered, staring out almost beseechingly, as if the answers to her problems were written on the window panes.

He approached hesitantly and took her hand again. “Falling to your death can have that effect.” Maybe it was a joke to say so, to lighten the conversation, but maybe not. Maybe it was a truth of which both of them were very aware.

Nodding, she turned slightly to look up at him. “Does it go away? How can… How can I do my job if I’m going to freeze up like that?”

“I don’t know.” She was frustrated with his answer and started to pull away again. “Natalia, wait. It gets easier, with practice. And with time away from the job,” he added slowly, an idea forming.

Snorting, she shook her head. “I don’t think there are vacation days in our contracts.”

“We don’t have contracts, Natalia. You don’t owe anyone anything. Not anymore. You can retire whenever you want.” A look passed over her face that was all too familiar. “I know that this is all you know how to do. It is for me, too. So I’ll make you a bet. Let’s take some time off, do some traveling of our own volition, see the sights. And I bet that I can relax better than you can.”

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It was a normal mission. A boring one, in fact. Just her and Sam to take down some goons. Wanda and James had been left at home, not even part of the briefing. That’s how boring it was. To be injured on such a routine assignment was embarrassing. Her superiors in Department X would have been ashamed of her, likely removing her from the program for it.

She forced herself to remember her life wasn’t like that anymore. That her team cared about her, whatever mistakes she might make. But she spent the trip back to the base feeling sorry for herself and couldn’t even hide it well enough to keep Sam from noticing. He politely didn’t comment, but she caught the way he looked at her and ached to be anywhere but here.

“Don’t worry, it happens to all of us,” he reassured her, as if he were the veteran training her instead of the other way around that their relationship had always been. He was always a fast learner, but he would never match her in the field. Only one person could.

“Thanks,” she replied, trying to act reassured. He escorted her to the infirmary and she insisted on being able to take care of herself without further assistance.

“Alright. Well, you know where to find me,” he told her before disappearing down the hallway. She let out a sigh of relief. It took longer than usual to set herself up, but soon she was resting comfortably. The graze had required stitches, something she was used to providing for herself, and she appreciated the IV drip once she’d gotten it in place. Now she could rest.

When was the last time she’d really rested? Perhaps never. Her childhood and youth had been spent working for the Red Room, where performance was more important than anything else about her. Her days had been full of training and the Widows were kept in a constant state of alertness. An attack might come at any time in the field, so they were ready.

Then she had defected, which only increased the level of anxiety she had to maintain. Fortunately, Clint, and SHIELD, had come knocking not too long after. Working for them was radically different from her upbringing. There was the assumption that, though a spy, she was also a person. It was a new concept and took time to adjust her ideas accordingly. But she was a quick study and made note of how Barton maintained his humanity on the job.

Years passed before she became an Avenger, an event that still felt like a dream. Yes, of course the lonely girl raised to kill would hope for a team of heroes to give her talents an honorable purpose. Of course someone like her could save the world. Of course no one would question an assassin in a group of superheroes. Perhaps she should have seen the writing on the wall earlier. She had done the psych evals, after all. But it was still a shock to deal with the fallout, from Ultron, from the Accords. Being on the run again was familiar, though. Not exactly comfortable, but less stressful with their team than it had been when she was alone.

She didn’t like to think about when Thanos came. About how their strategy could have changed, what sacrifices they should have made. If there was any path that would have worked. For five years, she had run those ideas through her head each night as she stared at the ceiling. Five years, knowing they had failed so utterly that no one else on the team remained. Five years where Tony Stark of all people settled down to start a family, where Bruce Banner reconciled his separate halves, where Steve tried his hand at therapy and Thor gave up on everything. Where Clint sought justice for his family with the point of a sword.

It wasn’t alone that she had continued to try to save the world. Carol, Okoye, Rhodey, Rocket – they all tried to help. But there was only so much they could do. Only so much to do, with half the world gone. She would have given anything to undo their mistake. And she did. She had given everything. And now what? Now she was here, trying to do the same work that she had always done as though nothing had changed. It felt pointless.

Her dark thoughts were interrupted by a person who never failed to brighten her outlook. He had been through so much, as much as she had, and still stayed focused on the job, still dedicated. She wondered if he ever got tired of it. If he wished for the simple life he’d had before Zemo’s scheming. Or his life in Wakanda. She envied his chances at a normal life and considered, for the first time, that maybe it was something she wanted. To try, at least.

James paused near the doorway, watching her. He asked questions, which she deflected, until he came closer and took her hand. That had never happened before and she swallowed. And let herself tell the truth, the whole truth, for a change. It was stupid of her to react the way she had. She was compromised and didn’t know how to make up for it.

When he joined her at the window, she dared to ask one of the questions she had longed to ask him for some time – could someone ever really get over dying? Could they come back from that? Or were there some things from which you could never recover? He responded that he didn’t know and she berated herself for asking something so personal, for putting so much hope in the answer.

“Natalia, wait,” he insisted and she did, letting him keep ahold of her hand. “It gets easier, with practice. And with time away from the job.”

She shook her head at that idea. “I don’t think there are vacation days in our contracts.”

He pulled slightly on her hand until she looked up at him. “We don’t have contracts, Natalia. You don’t owe anyone anything. Not anymore. You can retire whenever you want.” She swallowed down her feelings to that idea with difficulty. “I know that this is all you know how to do. It is for me, too. So I’ll make you a bet. Let’s take some time off, do some traveling of our own volition, see the sights. And I bet that I can relax better than you can.”

A grin spread across her face. She did love a challenge, and particularly matching her skills against his. “You’re on, James. I’m going to be so much better than you at relaxing.”

His smile was relieved and he reached up to touch her face gently. “I certainly hope so.”

It felt like the air had gone out of her lungs as it occurred to her that he wasn’t suggesting the team take a break. Just her. With him. From the way he was looking at her, touching her, there was a reason for that distinction for which she might not be ready. Not just yet. Still smiling, she moved back to her bed.

“Well, I think Sam’ll be mad if I don’t get some sleep. But maybe we’ll be ready to leave tomorrow?” The question was soft and more vulnerable than she would have liked, but his expression was grave and perhaps even tender as he nodded.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He approached her again and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sleep well, Natalia.”

“You too, James,” she replied, as if this were a normal interaction between them instead of one that got her heart pounding far too fast for sleep to be an option anytime soon.

He left and she decided to take advantage of the sedatives available in the infirmary rather than spend the night agonizing over these new developments. She was going on a much-needed vacation. With James. It would be fun, whatever else happened.

Sam would not allow them to leave the next morning, claiming they needed time to plan but really it was because of her injury. It was vacation practice, she decided, to sleep most of the day or watch trashy daytime tv from her bed. James was working on a few logistics, so she was pleased to have a head start on relaxing. She was determined to win this bet.

When her wound had healed sufficiently for her purposes, she insisted it was time to go. James did not disagree and they flew first to Wakanda. They were recognized several times on the trip, and were thanked for their work. The general public seemed to take her return as expected, which was a surprise. Had they not realized she died? 

James took her hand during these conversations, clearly aware of how they distressed her. She was grateful for that, and for the fact that they had private accommodations once they reached the African continent. Wakanda may have opened its doors but they preferred to help their neighbors in ways that didn’t encourage much tourism. So James had sent their friends a message and a plane came to pick them up.

James greeted their pilot by name, but she didn’t know him. They settled into the back and she tried to relax again. She hadn’t realized that her vacation might invoke all the things she was trying to forget, just by being exposed to civilians. Hopefully the rest of it wouldn’t be like this, she thought with some trepidation. James squeezed her hand and she felt better.

They were met by Okoye when they landed and she bucked protocol to hug the woman. It had meant a lot to have the Dora Milaje helping what was left of the Avengers during the absence, which was ridiculously called the Blip, and Okoye had become a good friend.

“Now, now, I’m on duty,” Okoye replied, laughing, but there were tears in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re back,” she added softly.

King T’Challa was there to greet them formally, but James had a much warmer reunion with Princess Shuri. They attended the royal dinner and she was grateful she had brought something sufficiently nice to wear. The next morning, James took her to see where he had stayed before the threat of Thanos had forced him away.

“You kept goats?” she asked curiously as she inspected the hut. It looked simple but she could see the clear marks of Wakanda’s impressive technological advancements even here.

“It was certainly a new experience,” he agreed with a smile. “They have a new home now, of course. Couldn’t just wait around for someone to come back and take care of them.”

“No, we couldn’t.” She had said it softly but he looked at her sharply. “Five years is too long to wait for someone to help you. Them,” she added more loudly.

He frowned slightly. “Is it?”

Uncertain what he meant, she went back to inspecting his former residence. “I’m sure goats can get up to all kinds of trouble in that time.”

“They can.” The moment, whatever it was, passed and he told her stories about caring for the goats. About the kids that would come watch him and play with his charges. It was sweet and she couldn’t help but smile, glad he’d gotten to act like a normal person for once.

He wanted to visit more of his friends and they spent the day talking to people who were happy to tell her stories about him. Some were embarrassing and she was delighted to know more about who he was when he wasn’t being the weapon HYDRA had created. When evening fell, he asked where she wanted to go next. She didn’t know.

“We could go to Brooklyn. I’d like to see what it looks like now. And people always ignore celebrities in New York,” he added innocently. She appreciated that.

So to Brooklyn they went. He showed her around and it felt natural to take his arm while he did. Like they were an item from his younger days in the forties. Not that they weren’t young, she supposed. It was just hard to feel like it.

“That’s the place we used to go dancing,” he said, pointing. “Do you want to go?”

“It’s still open?” After nearly a century, that was fairly shocking.

“Yeah. It’s changed hands a few times but it’s still a dance hall.”

She had been raised to dance. And, while the dancing had never been about enjoying the craft, she did love it. And dancing with James – well, that was something she wouldn’t pass up easily. These were new dances, ones neither of them could guess, but it was a delightful evening nonetheless. It wasn’t often that she was in a situation with such low stakes for acquiring a new skill and they were soon both laughing at their mistakes.

The later it got, the more people left, until soon only a handful remained on the dance floor. They stuck it out until closing and she thought she could get used to this vacation stuff. James led her to a place down the street for a late dinner, or maybe early breakfast.

“That was great,” she told him, unable to stop smiling. When was the last time she’d had that much fun? Only when she was with a target did she grin like this.

“Glad to hear it,” he replied, holding her hand while they waited for their food.

“How nice it is that you remembered the place,” she continued happily.

He looked at her carefully for a long moment and her smile dropped as she wondered if she had said something wrong. “I remember some things,” he told her gravely.

“What do you remember?” she prompted when he didn’t continue.

“I remember the Red Room. I remember that you were the one good thing in all of it.”

A punch to the face wouldn’t have been more effective, if he was trying to shock her. In all their interactions, she had been looking for an indication that he recognized her, that he knew her as more than an Avenger. But there had been nothing. Nothing to indicate that her memories of a trusted … friend would ever be more than memories.

“What?” she whispered.

His jaw clenched and he backpedaled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I… I don’t want things to change between us. Just seemed like I should tell you. Before… Before our vacation goes on much longer.” He cleared his throat and looked down at their clasped hands. “I can take you back to base if you want. Or just go, if you want to stay here.”

She grabbed his collar with her free hand and pulled him in for a thorough kiss. “A little something to let you know I haven’t forgotten, either,” she told him, hiding her delight with difficulty at the sight of his surprised face.

A grin broke through his troubled expression and he leaned in to kiss her again. “I’m glad we sorted that out,” he offered when he withdrew. Their food arrived at that inconvenient moment and she sat back in her seat.

“I don’t think it’s sorted out at all. I think we’re going to have to do a lot more sorting later. In private,” she added with a wink.

His cheeks flushed and he nodded. “I’m looking forward to it, Natalia.”

“So am I.”


End file.
